


Getting Out Of It

by LilacCrocuta



Series: Medieval Septiplier [14]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23437426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacCrocuta/pseuds/LilacCrocuta
Summary: Mark and Seán end up tumbling to the bottom of a small ravine.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin
Series: Medieval Septiplier [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681588
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	Getting Out Of It

Falling was by no means a fun activity that Seán liked to do.

But falling down into a deep, possibly fifteen foot deep chasm? That was much less fun. The only comfort the Irish knight had was that he’d fallen down there with the love of his life. 

From his left, King Mark let out a groan, struggling to sit up as Seán lifted his head off the stone ground, pulse racing as he briefly checked them both for any injuries. Aside from his entire abdomen being sore, he didn’t feel any. Thankfully, Mark had inexplicably landed on his ass when he’d fallen, but the brunet knew that his tailbone was going to hurt later. 

“Ugh….ow….” The other man grunted, exchanging a glance with Seán, before they both looked up at the sky high above their little prison. “How—how did we get here….?” 

“Well,” The Irish knight huffed out, standing up and helping the king to his feet as carefully as he could. “If you had roughly ninety minutes, I could probably explain it to you, but I’ll give you the simpler version and say that you decided “It’s a perfect day for a horseback ride in the MIDDLE OF NOWHERE.”.” 

Mark blushed in obvious embarrassment, and Seán just exhaled heavily, glancing around to check their surroundings for danger. The chasm was mildly dark, but there didn’t appear to be any snakes or deadly creatures of any sort trying to sneak up on them.

“Are you hurt?” The brunet turned his focus to Mark as the question was asked, and gave a shake of his head, gently patting his love on the shoulder. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” He reassured the king, unable to help but smile a little. “It’s yer arse I’m more concerned about.” 

Mark blushed a shade darker, and that did wonders to improve Seán’s mood. With a soft chuckle, the knight turned his gaze to the rock walls surrounding them, checking for any handholds or footholds they could potentially use to get out of there. Unfortunately, it seemed that the walls of the ravine were, for the most part, rather smooth, with barely any grip to them. He sighed heavily, exchanging a worried glance with the king. 

“Well,” Mark huffed, scratching the back of his neck with another skyward look. “I suppose it’s a good thing we dismounted before we ended up down here.” Seán couldn’t help but give a reasoning shrug, nodding. 

“I suppose so.” He agreed, trying desperately not to think of the horrid images of their maimed and/or dead horses laying there alongside them. No, they’d been smart enough to tie their steeds up somewhere close by and then go exploring on foot. 

But that’s when the question struck him. 

_What are the others going to think when they find just our horses tied to a tree without us anywhere in sight? And is it even possible for us to climb out of this ravine?_ He swallowed, and it seemed as though Mark immediately sensed his nervousness because at once, the king laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

As Seán met his eyes, he saw the familiar determined look return to Mark’s brown orbs and as it did, a calm sensation swept over him.

“Don’t you worry, my clover,” The other man reassured him quietly. “We’ll make it out of here. Don’t you know how good I am at climbing?” He added with a slight smirk. 

The brunet gave a small shake of his head. “No, because I’ve never seen ye climb onto anything besides yer horse.” 

_“And you.”_

“Mark!” 

The king let out a deep laugh as Seán felt his cheeks heat up, and then finally he turned his back to the Irish knight and began to head towards the ravine wall in front of them. 

“Well fear not, for I am an expert climber! There is no way to keep a Fischbach contained for long.”

Quietly, Seán followed him to the wall, watching patiently as his love scanned the rocky surface with a careful gaze, a hand to his chin. A few moments later, he seemed to find a good starting place to try and scale the wall and grabbed onto it. 

Seán watched with fascination and rising hope as his love carefully began to climb up the side of the ravine, reaching up for more handholds and getting a good eight feet off the ground—

And then he suddenly lost his grip. The Irishman’s reflexes became catlike in a heartbeat, and he just managed to catch Mark before the king could really injure himself, staggering back from the sudden weight dropping into his arms.

“Thank you.” The king huffed out, carefully dislodging himself from the brunet and exchanging a nod with him. Then he tried again, as Seán stood just underneath him, ready to catch him a second time if necessary. 

Mark scaled the wall again, reaching the same spot….and to Seán’s surprise, the same thing occurred. This time, he nearly fell on his ass as Mark landed in his open arms with a breathy yelp, but just managed to recover his footing and help his love recover his own. The king let out an offended-sounding huff. 

“I nearly had it, that time!” He insisted, storming up to the rock wall again. The third time that he fell from the same spot, Seán suggested that he try another one, which the king did. And another. And yet another. And yet another. 

By the sixty-second try (yes, Seán actually counted), Mark was a bit more than flustered. And the Irishman felt his arms beginning to ache from the amount of times he’d had to catch him from various heights, which made this activity even less fun than it already was.

_“I will...get….up….this damned wall!”_ He heard his love snarling out from roughly twelve feet above his head as he reached for a handhold that was barely in range of his fingertips. 

Seán bit his lip, staring intently at the elusive handhold, hopes as high as they could get that this attempt would be the one to get them both out of here. 

However, it was not, and with a feeling of mixed despair and fear, he saw Mark lose his grip yet again, but managed to catch him once more. 

As the two men separated from one another, Seán opened his mouth to say something encouraging, but that’s when he noticed the expression on Mark’s face as he glared flaming daggers up at the rock wall. The King’s face was beet-red, he was trembling, his fists were tightly clenched, and there was a vein bulging at the side of his neck. 

_Uh oh._

Seán took that as his cue to step away from Mount Mark, and barely a second later, his love absolutely _erupted._ The king started screeching profanities that would make the most foul-mouthed man blush, before bending down to pick up as many rocks and pebbles as he could, then hurling them in various directions.

The brunet practically dove behind a nearby boulder for cover, listening in slight terror as his lover vented his rage. Within a few moments, the shrill swearing transformed into what appeared to be random gibberish, which was equally scary to listen to, as Mark was usually very coherent. He heard a few of the thrown rocks bouncing off the walls from the sheer force they were flung with, and flinched as one sailed over his hiding spot.

_I need to stop him before one of us actually requires a visit to Evelyn’s._ Trembling from head to toe, the Irishman took a deep breath, daring to peek out from behind the side of his boulder and immediately ducking for cover again as another stone was blindly hurled his way. Alright, so that’s out of the question. Mark continued hollering swear words and general insults aimed at the ravine wall, and suddenly—

_“I think they’re down there!”_ Seán’s eyes widened as his sensitive ears picked up another voice through the violent shouting. He knew that voice!

“MARK, SHUT UP!” He yelped, peeking out at his infuriated lover once more.

_“WHAT—?!”_ The king snarled out. As he did, Seán heard the same voice again, heart soaring as Mark actually quieted down and listened with him.

“I was right! They _ARE_ down there!” Mark’s flushed face seemed to lighten a smidge as he and Seán exchanged a brief glance, before the Irish knight stood up on shaking legs, looking up at the top of the ravine as two familiar-looking men reached it and looked down, both on horseback and looking very relieved indeed.

_“Ethan! Tyler!”_ He huffed out, smiling at the two of them with the king. He saw Mark give an embarrassed nod, coughing quietly into his fist. “Thank the stars you’re here!” 

“How did you find us?” Mark asked hoarsely, tilting his head up at the two. 

Tyler gave them a smirk, briefly glancing at Ethan, who just giggled. “Oh it was rather easy, actually.” The tall knight chuckled. “We heard you screaming from halfway across the forest.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case it wasn't obvious, this fic was a reference to Mark's Getting Over It videos. As for the other two references I threw in there, I'll let y'all figure that out.   
> Stay indoors, stay safe, don't touch your face, and peace out!


End file.
